


In a Cruel World

by sightlessProphet



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Sgrub Session, Caliginous Romance | Kismesis, F/M, Flushed Romance | Matesprits, M/M, Multi, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance, SlaveStuck AU, Slavery, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-31
Updated: 2013-12-31
Packaged: 2017-12-21 23:38:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/906303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sightlessProphet/pseuds/sightlessProphet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In an alternate universe where there was no SGRUB session to disturb Alternia and its inhabitants, life continued on. </p><p>Sweeps later, when Karkat's blood has been revealed, instead of being culled, he is taken to an auction where he is bought by Eridan. As days pass and no contact is made or received from the crabby troll, Sollux becomes fearful and asks Aradia to help find Karkat when he stumbles upon a disarrayed and destroyed hive that had belonged to his friend. When he learns about Karkat's fate, Sollux makes a difficult choice and gives up his freedom to become a slave.</p><p>Although, he may have acted too hastily when he learns that Karkat isn't in such a bad situation, despite Sollux thinking otherwise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Twist of Fate

The hotel’s massive banquet room turned into a temporary auction room was filled with different trolls from different castes; the high-bloods for appearance and looking to score a lovely new addition to their slave hold, the mid-bloods either making up for a high-blood’s absence or catering to the influential guests, and then the low-bloods serving as the main purpose of the auction. The twist to this special auction was that the low-bloods had a distinctive quirk, an unusual trait that stood out compared to other trolls from their blood caste. In this case, it was a flaw or mutation that defined the odd trait, and to the shackled trolls waiting on the opposite side of the curtains it was downright horrifying. Any troll not chosen by a higher caste was executed or put to use in other ways. 

For the mutant-blood, with the candy red blood flowing through his veins, Karkat knew he wouldn’t have an issue with catching the eye of some high-bloods. Who wouldn’t want to show off their brand new mutant with a blood disorder? He snarled at the thought. 

He looked at the cuffs linking his wrists together before trying to pull them apart, agitation gnawing at him. Fuck, why were these cuffs so strong? He dropped his arms with a frustrated sigh. Karkat couldn’t escape from this, and as much as it pained him to accept that unbearable fact, he had to. He was going to be sold to some self-absorbed high-blood and used for who knows what. 

Karkat had messed up, stumbled somewhere when he had been so cautious in keeping his mutated blood a secret. However, he hadn’t been cautious enough because obviously someone had discovered his damnable mutation and reported him. The next thing he knew he was being forcibly removed from his hive and transported to a special prison cell all for himself. How luxurious. 

He had been furious, scared, and ready to throttle any poor idiot close enough for him to get his hands on. He’d been reprimanded for his actions though, and soon he stopped fighting every troll to step foot into his cell block. Despite that he didn’t lash out physically, Karkat’s tongue was untamable and it was ready to put down anyone who was in listening range. Words didn’t do much aside from earning a common scoff of annoyance or a threat that only fueled Karkat’s anger more.

Eventually, Karkat was chosen as a special defect of a troll and sent to his current location to be shown off and bargained for. It was only a matter of time before the auctioning began, so said the cerulean blood dressed for the part of the announcer. His smug appearance was begging for a punch to the face, but who had their hands free to do that? Definitely not Karkat, but he really wanted to.

It wasn’t too soon before the shackled trolls were being led on stage from behind the curtain and auctioned off like limited time items rather than living, scared to death people. Four trolls went before Karkat, and he felt sorry for them because their fear was obvious in their walk, their posture, their face. Then it was his turn. He snarled as he was approached, sharp teeth showing and brow pinched in fury. He was only chuckled at as he was grabbed and shoved toward the center of the stage. Karkat almost tripped before regaining his balance. 

Being the main attraction now on the stage, he couldn’t escape the gaze of dozens of eyes that were judging him, wondering if he would be worth their money. He only scowled at them before lowering his own gaze to the floor; he didn’t want to see their initial reaction when the cerulean blood announced his mutation. All he heard was gasps of surprise, excitement, and probably disgust, but it still made him wince when the words were broadcasted for all to hear. 

Karkat had been right in assuming that his secret would win some high-bloods’ attention, and he wouldn’t doubt if he would be the highlight of the auction. The bids rose higher and higher, along with Karkat’s anxiety. Who would he be going home with? What would they make him do? How would they treat him? 

It felt like hours as the price for the young troll continued to rise, but there was a voice that was becoming familiar every few seconds. Karkat’s stomach dropped, because this was really happening and he couldn’t do anything to prevent it. Soon there was only that particular voice, and then his auctioning was over. Apparently he had been bought by some violet blood that struck the announcer’s attention. He must have been someone important. 

Karkat was lead off stage and replaced by some other poor troll. Backstage, Karkat was handed over to the high-blood, and now he could see who owned the voice that made him want to punch it. He glanced over the taller troll and realized he had a ridiculous purple streak in his hair, donned thick-rimmed glasses, and wore a military outfit of some sort. Douche bag. 

Apparently this guy was studying Karkat as well because his eyes were shifting every few moments and he had a thoughtful expression on his face. When he suddenly spoke, Karkat jumped. “I am Eridan Ampora. And you are?”

“Fuck you.” Oops, there went his tongue, hateful as ever. 

The mutant blood had expected Eridan to be outraged that a low-blood had insulted him, avoided answering his question correctly. Instead, and very much to Karkat’s surprise, Eridan simply chuckled like he had been told a joke. “I see you have a tempered-mouth. Good, I fuckin’ hate pleasantries.”

Alright, that was a surprise, but Karkat still thought he was a douche bag, especially with that weird accent. Who even spoke like that?

“Alright,” Eridan stated, spinning on his heel, “let’s go before you start an uproar. I’m tired of being around these land-dweller ingrates.”

Self-absorbed, narcissistic douche bag. Karkat rolled his eyes as he followed behind Eridan. This was who owned him now? Ugh, that was still a bitter taste in his mouth, even if he was thinking it. Karkat just hoped this was as bad as the sea-dweller got. Over the sweeps, he had learned violet blood castes were prone to being more aggressive and violent than other blood castes on the hemospectrum. Karkat had every right to be worried if that was the case with Eridan.

Fuck this whole thing. It honestly made him want to cry, but he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t do anything that revealed his inner-turmoil until he was in his new room, away from this shitty experience and alone with his thoughts. Fuck his mutated blood and his past self for screwing up so severely.


	2. Figuring Out What to Do

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plot is sort of, kind of, beginning to thicken.

It had been several days since Sollux had heard from his angry, short friend.  Normally this wasn’t a big deal.  Usually because Sollux was the one ignoring the riled up troll that he dubbed his best friend, flowing horribly between his mood swings until Aradia helped him relax or he finally came back from dark places he hated.  Except this time around, Sollux was the one trying to get in contact with Karkat, only to have his messages left unanswered.

The first few times Sollux tried getting a response from Karkat through Trollian he had become visibly pissed.  Then he became concerned.  Now he was downright worried.  It was really unlike Karkat to go this long without talking to him.  

That was when Sollux had asked Aradia to help him figure out what the hell was going on.  He had exhausted all his efforts, the final attempt at trying to contact Karkat had been Sollux hacking his way through the router and manually activating the camera on his friend’s husktop.  The screen showed a portion of the room it was in to be a horrible disarray of a mess.  It only amplified his anxiety.

He didn’t want to believe what the result of a vicious struggle could lead to, but he _needed_ to know.  So who better to turn to than the girl who could speak to the dead, more or less, on a whim? Despite the irritation of being cryptic as all fuck.

Sollux tapped a foot impatiently, watching his moirail, mentally encouraging her _to hurry the hell up_.  He had to remember to remain calm; otherwise his psionics would short circuit into whatever was closest to him.

“Well?”

Aradia opened her eyes to silently scold Sollux before closing them again. “Just be patient.”

Sollux let out an irritated sigh that resembled a low growl.  He just wanted to know if his best friend was alive or not. 

A few more minutes passed before Aradia finally opened her eyes once more, relaxing into a slouch from her meditated position.  She looked exhausted, and Sollux could only imagine how she felt mentally.  He really owed her a lot, despite that she heard her own voices daily.  It was just a struggle to single out any particularly one.  The yellow blood knew that pain well.

Her maturing eyes, brimming with her rust-red blood color, looked at Sollux with solace, and then she shrugged.  Sollux felt a surge of aggravation and relief and uncertainty rush through him, and it was too much.  A mix of blue and red sparks exploded into a wall.  Luckily a new doorway had not been blasted through it.  Aradia just looked on with sympathy.

“There is still a chance he’s alive, Sollux,” she offered.

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Sollux sulked. “We need to know where he is!”

“Sollux, we live in a world where any one of us can die, and you may need to accept the fact…” her voice trailed off, and Sollux didn’t need to hear the words to know what she was hinting at.

“Fuck you, AA!” Sollux was seething, and he immediately regretted insulting Aradia.  Yeah, maybe she was right, but if she could not hear Karkat’s voice, then that had to mean he was alive, somewhere. “He isn’t dead.”

Aradia frowned softly before scooting closer to Sollux, patting the knee she was closest to.  His tense shoulders relaxed a little, slumping down lazily.  He felt like crying. “Life goes on, Sollux,” she continued. “I know it sucks, but death is a fact that will happen to any of us.  You have to deal with that.”

Sollux shuddered out a strained sigh. “Your pep talk is shit, AA,” he weakly joked.

She quirked the right side of her mouth into a small smile.  “No better than yours,” she returned.  Aradia patted his shoulder before turning her attention to her husktop, which was making dinging noises that indicated she was receiving messages.

As she settled herself onto the floor, placing her husktop on her lap, she made a comment. “I’m not giving up on him, Sollux. I’m just giving you the straight facts.”

Sollux nodded slowly, although he was sure Aradia hadn’t seen it.  He felt utterly lost, full of turmoil.  His best friend was missing, gone, just disappeared. 

And Sollux was incapable of doing anything to find him. 

There was a persistent thought that kept bothering him, pushing his frustration even further.  Out of all the trolls Karkat deemed worthy of calling his friend, Sollux was the only one who knew his secret.  The fact he was, by the terms of the hemospectrum, a mutant with bright red blood coursing through his veins. 

It had been an accident, really.  Karkat never had intentions of telling Sollux in the beginning. When the two friends had started verbally assaulting each other which escalated into a fist fight, Sollux had grabbed the shorter troll by the wrist.  Then Karkat had fought to free himself.  He had struggled too much and caused a sharp nail to dig into his skin, earning a trickle of blood to seep free and drip down his hand.

There had been a stretch of silence before all hell broke loss.  Sollux was mesmerized by the blood, and Karkat was flipping shit to a new degree.  He had even threatened Sollux, pulling a sickle on his friend.  It had been a horrible moment, but eventually Sollux got Karkat to calm down long enough to explain he had no intentions to reveal his secret to anyone.  In the end, Karkat finally believed him, and everyone got on with their lives again.

Sollux knew of the consequences Karkat faced, and the idea that someone found out the true blood color Karkat had in his veins seemed most likely.  It tormented the yellow blood, because it only confirmed further that, well, his friend could actually be dead.

A surprised gasp drew Sollux from his thoughts, and he turned his attention to Aradia. “What’s wrong?”

When Aradia remained silent Sollux moved to sit next to her.  He glanced at the screen of her husktop, first noticing the Trollian symbol and then the cerulean blue text, signifying she was talking to Vriska. How Aradia could ever stand to talk to that spider bitch was beyond his comprehension, but who was he to judge his moirail?

He didn’t bother to read what the messages said.  Last time he tried to read a conversation Aradia was having she made him regret it immediately.

Aradia turned to look at Sollux, excitement and disbelief on her face. “I think I might have just found out where Karkat is.”

“No shit?” Sollux asked, his blood pumper speeding up, slamming into his chest.  “Seriously?”

“Seriously, no shit,” she answered.  Aradia briefly looked at the messages that were waiting for her reply. “You’re not going to like it though.”

“What, why?”

Aradia bit her lower lip, worrying it.  She turned her husktop to face Sollux, giving him the privilege to read the messages openly.

AG: And he hasn't stopped going on a8out his precious new trophy.  
AG: Like I knoooooooow he is super excited and shit  
AG: 8ut it gets really tiring when he keeps repeating himself, over and over and over and over.  
AA: 0h g00d  
AA: i th0ught y0u were g0ing t0 write 0ver eight times  
AG: He's so infuri8ing!  
AG: I have no idea why he iseven gloating to me for! I could care less a8out some freak with mut8d 8lood!!!!!!!!

The last line is what caught Sollux’s attention.  He didn’t have to ask to know for certain that was Karkat, without a doubt.

“Shit.”


End file.
